The introduction video to Myspace 3.0 is a mixed bag, leaving many surprised, bewildered, and knowing far too much about the life of one David Croft, a fake person who resembles the muppetified lovechild of Tumblr CEO David Karp and Foursquare’s Dennis Crowley.

Like many things Myspace, Croft is too easy a target—someone who obviously said “Yo!” a lot during his experimental college years. The video pans across a profiled world of social awkwardness, including Croft’s dryer-puffed bowl haircut; a playlist called “Dope tunes” (obviously culled by hitting the “Related artists” tab on Wilco’s Spotify page); his favorite color (fluorescent beige!); and his ability to eat cookies as “Second to NOM.” That last one makes me SMDH.

He is also a veritable fount of wit: “No idea how you guys in cold climates get any work done,” says one update. Yo Croftduster, I hereby bestow upon you the deepest Illumanti secret for protection from chillier temps: jackets. I’m so relieved that Myspace is back, so we can all finally share in such profound social commentary.

The two-minute welcome video fits right in to the Myspace culture: It’s trying so, so hard. Too hard. It’s even got the indie soundtrack to match. Take note, Myspacers: JJAMZ is the new Alex Clare.

But! Croft’s profile looks, well, good. The interface is sleek and modern; it is basked in monochromatic colors and laid out in clean, browseable squares. That goes for the actual site, too. It may hurt to admit given the staggering lack of cool, but it’s not ugly. It’s actually pretty.

New Myspace has tossed aside its Dickies and blink-182 T-shirt, donned skinny jeans and an expensive fedora it found on Gilt. It got some work done and fixed that deviated septum.

Then it went on to a small liberal arts college in the Northeast, discovered what "free-range" coffee beans were, got a few vintage-inspired tattoos. And from the few glimpses we’ve got here, the new Myspace got around the freshman dorm a little. It made out with Pinterest’s board, snogged Tumblr’s glossy pictures, and played with Spotify’s knobs.

In the end, though, poor, promiscuous Myspace will be doing a walk of shame in the cold light of morning. Glossy squares and chic design aside, it’s is still kind of a poser, trying—so very, very hard—to be what the cool kids are so effortlessly. The new Myspace is just a cocktail of a bunch of social networks and services that we’re already using in other ways.

We don’t need another place to show off our lives, unless Ole Sexyback is personally going to write my friends’ birthday wishes for me. So goodbye, David Croft. Go get a haircut.